The Warmth of a Soaked Sweater
by Collie Parkillo
Summary: The Long Walk has never been stopped for weather yet, and Barkovitch starts to wish that this year they'd make an exception. Stebbarkovitch.


**it was rainy as fuck where i live so i wrote some fluff**

**disclaimer: the long walk does not belong to me under any means.**

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Of course it had had to fucking rain during the Long Walk. Couldn't they stop the damn thing because all the Walkers were soaked and unhappy and shit, there had better not be thunder. They just had to stop the Walk if there was thunder.

The very thought of thunder made Barkovitch shiver, and he suddenly realized that he was freezing cold. His rainhat had long since blown off of his head and was flapping obscenely behind him, leaving his dark hair soaked.

Shit. Things really couldn't get worse than this. Or could they.

"I love the rain, don't you?"

The howling of the wind almost blocked out the voice of the boy behind him, but Barkovitch could make out the words well enough. "Shit, no!" He turned around to notice that the boy was the freak with the purple pants. Stebbins. Only his pants were almost a black color since they were drenched. He was pressing something against his stomach, and Barkovitch noticed that it was a sandwich. What the fuck.

"Why not?"

Barkovitch waved a hand at the scene around him. "What the hell is there to like?!" Stebbins was about to respond when there was a large clap of thunder and a whimper escaped Barkovitch.

Stebbins drew closer to him, making it so the pair were walking side b side. "Are you afraid of the thunder?"

"N-No! It's just…" There was another clap of thunder and Barkovitch gritted his teeth. "I'm not afraid of the thunder."

Stebbins seemed to gulp down the remains of his sandwich in one bite, and Barkovitch didn't blame him. He wouldn't want to eat wet sandwich either. After swallowing, Stebbins said, "It's perfectly alright to be afraid of thunder."

"I'm not afraid of the fucking thunder, freak!" He looked down, eager to change the subject. "I'm so fucking cold."

Stebbins moved closer to Barkovitch, and to his surprise, wrapped one arm around his shoulders. "Get closer to me. It conserves warmth."

"Shit, people are going to think we're…we're…"

"I'm cold, Barkovitch. And so are you. So how about we warm up?"

"Like this'll help much," he muttered, but he did as Stebbins said and wrapped his free arm around Stebbins' waist. The two boys were practically huddled together at this point, and Barkovitch had to admit that Stebbins' body heat was much higher than his.

Although both of their clothes were beginning to stink from being nearly soaked through, Barkovitch found it in him to ignore it for the time being. There was another loud roar of thunder and he found himself trying to get as close to Stebbins as physically possible.

"Why do you love this shit?"

"Ah, well, it's a bit like nature having a tantrum. And after all, nature does deserve to let it out its feelings at one time or another. Thunderstorms just feel so…raw to me, you know?" Barkovitch grunted and Stebbins smiled at him. "You're a bit like a thunderstorm yourself, Barkovitch."

"What're you saying about me?" the other boy mumbled. His face had somehow ended up half-buried in Stebbins' shoulder, probably because of all the fucking thunder. God, he really hoped that that goddamn McVries didn't see them like this. He'd never hear the end of it from that bastard.

"You're quite an angry person, aren't you?"

A tired, "Shut up," was the best Barkovitch could come up with. He was almost comfortable here with Stebbins, and he didn't want arguing with the other boy over thunderstorms to ruin it.

"You've proved my point."

The best come back he could think of was telling Stebbins to shut up again, so he decided to just not say anything at all. He could feel water beginning to drip down the back of his shirt, and that greatly displeased Barkovitch. "It's so fucking wet, god, Stebbins, do you just like being freezing and drenched?"

"No. But I respect rain."

"How do you respect a type of weather?"

"I just do."

That was when Barkovitch completely gave up on making sense of anything Stebbins said. He felt the blond boy shiver and drew him a bit closer. He was definitely not queer, but hey, Stebbins had stopped him from freezing to death or whatever horrible fate was going to befall him from the rainstorm.

"You're so fucking weird. But thanks, anyways, I guess," Barkovitch said awkwardly.

"You're very welcome," Stebbins responded. That was a pretty damn weird way to respond, but Barkovitch supposed that he wasn't going to get anything more normal out of the other boy.

A gust of wind caused both of them to shiver slightly and Barkovitch to shift back into having his face buried in Stebbins' shoulder. God, he'd never wanted to sit down on a couch somewhere nice and warm and wrap himself up in a blanket this badly before.

But since he probably wasn't going to get anything like that until he won the Walk, huddling in Stebbins' minimal warmth was going to have to be enough for now.

* * *

**i love these two so much cries loudly**


End file.
